


Just This Once

by Juliet_the_Infinite



Category: Days Gone (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-14 12:23:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20600729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliet_the_Infinite/pseuds/Juliet_the_Infinite
Summary: Deacon agrees to take you out scavenging.





	1. Chapter 1

You sigh as you throw another handful of freaker ears into a bucket. You don't really believe in past lives, but if you had one, you must have been pretty bad to get stuck with the worst job in camp. 

"Got some bounties for you," you hear a familiar voice say, and you instantly perk up.

"Deek! Been a while," you say, giving him your best smile. The handsome drifter shows up very couple of weeks to turn in bounties and stock up on supplies, and you're always glad to see him. 

"Yeah, I've been out in the shit doing jobs for people. Took out a couple of hordes nearby, so I have a lot to turn in."

You quickly count the ears and let out a low whistle. "Damn, Deek, you've been busy! You even took out three ragers?"

"Not easily, that's for sure."

You wipe your hands off on a rag and hand him a stack of camp credits. "Don't spend it all in one place, now," you say, and immediately cringe at the corny joke, but Deacon gives you a polite laugh.

"Well, I was planning to blow it at the casino later, but you've talked me out of it. Think I'll get some work done on my bike and pocket the rest."

You don't respond, too mesmerized by his lips as he talks.

"Uh...hello?" He waves his hands in front of your face.

"God, I'm sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night and I'm zoning out." You don't mention that the reason you didn't get much sleep is that you were masturbating to fantasies of fucking him.

"Nah, no problem. See you around."

"See you." 

You watch him walk away, the bandana in his back pocket gently swaying against his ass, and you impulsively call out "Deek?"

He turns around. "Yeah?"

"Can I...can I ask you for a favor?"

He returns to your stall. "What is it?"

"I wanted to do a scavenging run, but to be honest it's been so long since I've been outside the gates that I'm kind of rusty. There's a hunting lodge about ten miles away that I wanted to check out. Would you be willing to take me there? I don't have a lot I could offer you in return, but I'm pretty good at sewing, so if you need something fixed or made I'd be glad to do it for you."

Deacon rubs his chin. "Yeah, actually, I got a pair of jeans could use some patching up. I can't take you today, though. You around tomorrow?"

"Yep, I'm always here! I'll get someone to cover the stall. Thanks a lot, Deek."

"No problem," he says, walking away again. You get the feeling you won't be getting much sleep tonight either.


	2. Chapter 2

"Thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it."

Your friend laughs. "You're welcome, but you owe me! This job literally fuckin' stinks."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"You can make it up to me by telling me all the juicy details if you fuck that sexy drifter."

"Shelly!"

"Though good luck on that. Plenty have tried, none have succeeded."

"Do you know why? Is he gay?"

"Nah, I don't think so. He was---yeah, it's been nice out lately, but it might storm tonight."

You frown at the abrupt segue, but then you hear footsteps behind you. You turn around and Deacon is walking towards you, waving. "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Yeah!" you say, grabbing your keys off the counter.

"Where's your bike parked?" Deacon asks.

"I'm right there," you say, pointing, and Deacon bursts into laughter.

"What the fuck is THAT?"

You turn crimson. "I found it that way!"

"Did Barbie report it missing from her dream home yet?"

"In my defense, I would never paint a motorcycle pink, but I don't have the credits to redo it."

Deacon shakes his head. "I sure hope freakers are color blind. Does it run on gas or magic pixie dust?"

"Okay, smartass, let's just go."

* * * * *

You try your best to keep up with Deacon, but his bike is more souped up than yours and he's an infinitely better rider. He finally takes pity on you and slows down, but he's still way ahead of you. You concentrate on the road and hope like hell that no runners are around.

When you arrive at the hunting lodge, Deacon is sitting on the front steps, reloading his rifle. "Hey, you made it. Did you see Ken along the way?"

"Har har, real funny," you say. 

Deacon smirks, stands up, and slings the rifle back over his shoulder. "Okay, I'll stop teasing you about your bike. Let's go in."

"This place is bigger than I remember," you say, surveying the lobby. 

"If you tell me what you're looking for, I can take the first floor and you can take the second."

"The usual stuff for camp---canned goods, medicine, that sort of thing. But on a personal note, I'd love some reading material and, uh...I need tampons. Feminine supplies."

Deacon raises an eyebrow. "I'm married, I know what tampons are."

Your heart sinks, but you try to keep your disappointment from showing. "Oh, I didn't know you're married!"

"Yeah, her name's Sarah." He points at the tattoo on his neck.

"Pretty name," you say, and then you both stand there uncomfortably staring at each other.

Deacon clears his throat. "Anyway, we should start looking. I'd like to get back before the storm hits."

"Sure," you say. You head upstairs, find a bed that's not too dirty, and sit down heavily.

_Okay, he's married. Probably better not to get too attached to anyone with all this shit going on anyways. Just enjoy your fantasies and get the fuck over it, you got work to do._ You stand up, swipe an arm across your eyes, and start scavenging. When you're done, you head downstairs, where Deacon is reading in a ratty armchair, his legs propped up on the table.

"Find anything good?" he asks, not looking up from his book.

"I found a can of dry shampoo!" you say happily.

"Wow, congratulations."

"Excuse me, but that's a big deal when you have long hair and can't shower as often as you'd like! I also found half a bag of hard candy, a bottle of nail polish remover, and some thumbtacks. Did you have any luck?"

"Found some canned food, but the sides were bulging. Opened them and dumped them outside so nobody else would take 'em and get sick."

"That was nice of you."

He shrugs. "Maybe if we're lucky, freakers can get botulism. Also found a few odds and ends for myself and a couple things for you. Get ready, you're gonna think it's your birthday and Christmas rolled up in one."

You start bouncing up and down on your heels. "What?" 

Deacon turns the paperback so you can see the cover.

"Oh my god!" you squeal. "I love Stephen King!"

"Found a couple others too if you want 'em. Also some old magazines."

"I want them all! Thank you so much. I owe you even more now."

Deacon frowns and stands up. "Shit, the storm is coming."

"It is? How can you---" You're interrupted by the sudden rumble of thunder, and the wind blows rain through the broken windows.

"Goddammit, I thought we still had at least another hour. I don't think we should head back until this storm ends."

"Why?"

"Because, no offense, you're not a great rider, so you're liable to crash or get stuck in the mud. Other option is to leave your bike here and ride back with me, but even that shitty bike'll get picked over for parts and then you've got no ride at all."

"I guess you're right, we better stay here for a bit. I'm sorry about all this."

"Eh, shit happens. What's it like upstairs?"

"Most of the windows were broken up there too, but one of the rooms had a window with only one pane out."

"Why don't we head up there? No reason to get wetter than necessary."

Upstairs, Deacon regards the window. "Sorry, I think I gotta sacrifice one of these issues of _People_. Can you give me those thumbtacks you found?" You hand them over, and he opens the magazine and tacks it over the broken pane. "Not sure how long that'll hold, but it will do for now."

"Thanks again, I'm so sorry about---"

"Jesus, stop apologizing! It's fine." He sits down on the bed and, unsure of what to do, you sit down next to him and start unwrapping a hard candy. He holds his hand out, and you put one in his palm. He unwraps it and pops it in his mouth.

"Deacon, can I---can I ask you about Sarah?"

"Nope." He sees the expression on your face and sighs. "Sorry, I just...it's a long story. Short version is we got separated when the shit went down and I've been looking for her ever since. I'm kind of a pessimist at heart, but I'm not willing to give up yet."

"I hope you find her. I---well, it's not the same but I had a boyfriend. We were evacuated out of Portland and spent some time at one of the refugee camps, but Eric fell in love with someone else. It hurt at the time, but we hadn't really been together very long, and, you know, a global zombie apocalypse can put a real strain on a relationship. Been just me and my hand ever since. I used to have a vibrator I loved, but that stayed behind. You didn't happen to find a Hitachi Magic Wand around here, did you?"

Deacon blinks, and you cover your mouth, realizing what you just said. Then he bursts into laughter. "Damn, I can't believe you just said that! You're pretty funny, you know that?"

"Well, looks aren't everything."

"Knock it off."

"Sorry," you say automatically, and he sighs and shakes his head. "I mean, I'm not sorry. I am a proud masturbator! Though I, uh...wouldn't mind some company every now and then."

Deacon looks at you thoughtfully, working the candy around in his mouth. You grow hot under his gaze. "What?"

He bites it in half.

"What?!?"

"Probably shouldn't say this, but I'm getting a little worked up."

A warm feeling spreads through your belly, and you decide to go for it. "We could, uh...maybe help each other out? I don't want to have, you know, SEX-sex, because I absolutely cannot risk getting pregnant with everything going on. But, uh, I think I give a pretty good blow job? And you could, uh...well, I don't know if you give oral, but...I sure wouldn't say no to that or you could, uh, finger me and I could jack you off? Maybe? I'm pretty open, really, what sounds good to you? Deacon? Are you going to say anything?"

"Uh, listen." He takes his cap off, runs his fingers through his hair, and puts the cap back on. "First of all, yes, I give oral. I fuckin' love it. And Jesus Christ, the thought of a blow job right now is making me so hard it hurts. But I love Sarah more than anything, and I'm not going to cheat on her. Ever." 

"Oh. Well, I'm disappointed, to be honest, but I admire that. Really. Had to try though!"

Deacon hums, then says, "You know...Sarah let me watch porn."

"...okay?"

"I mean, she's a scientist, she says people like variety. She was fine with it."

"I'm still not sure what you're getting at, Deek."

"I'm probably being way too creative with my interpretation here, but maybe if I watched you masturbate, and I did it too, and we never actually touched each other, maybe that's kind of like porn? What do you think?"

"I think...let's go for it."


	3. Chapter 3

Deacon stands up and pulls a chair to the foot of the bed, sitting down. 

"Do you...should I...never mind." You stand up and quickly strip. "Ta-da!" you say, awkwardly gesturing at yourself.

"Damn," Deacon says admiringly. "You got a hell of a body hidden under those baggy clothes."

"I would've thought living on MREs for the past several months would get rid of some of this fat, but..."

"Knock it off with that self-deprecating shit," Deacon growls. 

"Sorry," you say, wincing.

"Besides, I like curves, and you got gorgeous tits and a nice ass, and I can't wait to see what's between those thighs. My pants are starting to get really uncomfortable."

"Then why don't you take them off?"

Deacon shakes his head. "I never get totally naked because I don't know when I'm going to have to fight something or someone, and it isn't real dignified to be backstabbing freakers with my junk swinging."

You laugh. "Okay, then, do whatever you're gonna, but I'm gonna get on this bed and get started." You push the moth-eaten pillows up against the wall and lean back against them.

"Show me," Deacon says, his voice thick with desire. You hesitate for a moment, and then you let your legs fall open. He hisses between his teeth.

"That is damn near the most beautiful pussy I've ever seen, and about the wettest. Is that because of me?"

"You know it is, Deek," you say. You slide your fingers through your slick folds and slowly trace a circle around your clit. Deacon unzips his jeans and fumbles out his cock. It's long and thick and flushed with arousal, leaking at the tip, and you wish Deacon wasn't so damn honorable so you could have it inside you.

"Tell me what you want."

You bite your lip, increasing the pace of your fingers as they tease your clit. "I want to get off this bed and kneel in front of you and take that in my mouth. I want to suck that cock until you shoot down my throat, and then I want to straddle your face and I want you to lick my cunt until I come. I want you to fuck me so hard I see stars. I want to feel you dripping out of me for hours."

"Jesus Christ," Deacon moans. "God, you have no idea how much I want to do all of that...I want to taste you...I want to fuck that pretty mouth and that pretty cunt so bad." His hand starts going faster and faster. 

You slide three fingers inside of yourself, pistoning them in and out. "I'm imagining this is your cock, Deek. I want it so bad."

"I want to flip you over and fuck you like a dog, grab your hair and slap your ass, reach under you and rub your clit until you clench around me and---"

"Deacon!" you scream, feeling the tension in your belly unspooling as you climax.

"FUCK!" he yells, spilling over his knuckles.

You flop back against the pillows, panting hard. You throw your arm over your eyes, coming down from your orgasm, and when your strength returns, you sit up. Deacon is wiping his hand off on a rag, and when he sees you looking at him, he smiles.

"Glad I always have a bunch of these," he says. He flings it on the floor, then stands up and looks out the window. "Storm looks like it should be letting up soon, maybe another hour. Scoot over."

You do, and he flops down next to you. "Might as well read," he says, reaching down and grabbing the paperback. 

"That's one of his best books, I think," you say. "If you're enjoying it, you can keep it."

"Thanks, Barbie."

You cringe. "Please don't start calling me that."

"Aw, I'm just yanking your chain. You really should get that bike repainted, though. It's a fucking crime against motorcycles."

"Some day," you say, sighing. 

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I needed this. This was...great."

You smile. "Yeah, it was. If you ever want a repeat, you know where to find me."

"I...uh, this should probably be a one-time deal."

"Probably."

"But we'll always have Lost Lake."

"Yeah," you say wistfully. "It ain't Paris, but it'll do."


End file.
